


all i hoped it would be

by Anonymous



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Coming Untouched, Established Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, M/M, Power Bottom Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier Has a Big Dick, Richie Tozier is Whipped, Service Top Richie Tozier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:53:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28773402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Sometimes when Eddie gets like this he tells Richie hours in advance, makes him wait around at home trying not to get distracted by thoughts of Eddie on his dick, how he looks, the sounds he makes, how he feels. Twice now he’s told Richie to wait for him in the bedroom and Richie’s lain there naked with a hard-on until Eddie saunters in when he feels like it while taking his clothes off. Other times, he does this, interrupting whatever Richie might be trying to do at home to announce that he’s about to come through the door. No matter what, Richie hasn’t let him down yet.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 185
Collections: Clowntown Kink Meme 2021





	all i hoped it would be

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [clowntown2021](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/clowntown2021) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Eddie comes home from work and he wants to get dicked down.

Richie’s running the same uncooperative punchline over and over out loud one afternoon, muttering to himself alone on the couch as he tries to figure out what’s not working, when his phone chimes with a text. Frustrated to have his chain of thought disrupted, he snatches his phone up to read. 

_Be ready for me_.

And like that, he snaps out of his mood. At this point, he has a Pavlovian response to reading those words.

His fingers are already trembling a little as he rapidly types; one of these days he needs to learn how to use voice to text. _yeah, you need your guts rearranged?_ Getting his fly open, he adds a picture of his hand cupped over the rapidly hardening bulge in his boxers. _you want this?_

Never fooled by Richie’s bravado, Eddie immediately replies with _Just get that lubed up and ready. I’ve had the Monday from hell and I need to be dicked down._

_where are you?_

_Be there in five_ , Eddie replies, which probably means he’s blocks away. Ah, one of those days. Sometimes when Eddie gets like this he tells Richie hours in advance, makes him wait around at home trying not to get distracted by thoughts of Eddie on his dick, how he looks, the sounds he makes, how he feels. Twice now he’s told Richie to wait for him in the bedroom and Richie’s lain there naked with a hard-on until Eddie saunters in when he feels like it while taking his clothes off. Other times, he does this, interrupting whatever Richie might be trying to do at home to announce that he’s about to come through the door. No matter what, Richie hasn’t let him down yet.

If he’s so close, Richie thinks that probably means the couch, even though Eddie also likes to complain about the mess if they get lube and come on it. Eddie likes having Richie on a leash, wanting something and then immediately getting it, and apparently that outweighs any mess there might be. Maybe he can get brownie points by putting down a towel, he thinks, so he does.

Eddie likes it when he’s naked and waiting for him, so Richie takes everything off except his wedding ring and sits back on the couch on his towel, eyes trained on the door, idly stroking himself. He’s got the lube next to him, figuring he’s going to disobey just a little bit and wait until Eddie gets here to get himself slick, probably while Eddie’s stripping off and cussing him out. There was one time Eddie was so impatient that he didn’t undress completely before getting on his dick, and Richie remembers that time very fondly, even the bitching that resulted when lube and come got on his suit. 

Richie wonders how much prep Eddie will want, if any; the thing is, see, Richie does have a sizeable dick, there’s no way around it, and Eddie, well, Eddie has recently discovered that he’s kind of a size queen sex gremlin, with an apparently insatiable need to be fucked by a big ol’ dick even if and maybe especially if it kind of hurts, and Richie’s all too happy to be attached to that big ol’ dick. He likes to think it gives his life a purpose, kinda. Sometimes Eddie makes him wait while he takes an excruciatingly long time to finger himself open or make Richie do it, until Richie feels like he’s going insane, and other times with no further ado Eddie takes him and looks like he’s enjoying the discomfort. He wonders what’s likely today.

He can hear Eddie outside, and then suddenly there he is, the love of his life slamming the door behind him and hanging up his coat and fussing a mile a minute about some work situation that Richie barely registers. He starts taking off his jacket, toeing out of his loafers as he walks over to Richie, tossing his clothes over the chairs as he keeps ranting, waving with his free hand, pink in the face. Naked, Eddie stops a few feet away, puts his hands on his hips, his matching ring glinting gold, and raises his brow while looking pointedly at the lube. “What did I say?” he demands.

“Oh, sorry. My bad.” Richie smiles slowly and picks up the lube, opens the cap, pours some into his palm, and starts to apply it to himself as Eddie stares, expression stern. 

“That’s better,” he finally says. Richie looks him over, as he’s clearly deciding how he wants to do this. Then Eddie turns around, perfect little ass on display, and Richie pulls his hand away as Eddie starts to sink down onto his lubed-up dick. 

Oh, fuck. 

He’s groaning as he struggles to adjust, and maybe Richie’s groaning too, watching from behind him as Eddie takes him in. God. Wiping his hand on the towel beneath him, Richie then puts it on his back, a light touch at first in case Eddie doesn’t want it, but Eddie hums, sounding distracted, and Richie moves his other hand to Eddie’s back as well—his gorgeous, muscled back, with its twisted scar a testament to how he’d fought and lived. He wants to see Eddie’s face, but he can imagine it, and that’ll have to do for now. 

“Holy shit, Rich, God, you’re so fucking big,” Eddie mutters, apparently having to stop and let himself catch up. “Fuck,” he grits out, and Richie stares at how Eddie’s tight little ass frames his cock, the way Eddie’s stretched out around him, until he has to make himself stop looking because if he doesn’t pace himself he’s going to come too soon and Eddie will be displeased.

Finally, Eddie’s sunk down onto him, sitting fully, breathing hard, his hands on Richie’s thighs. Eddie doesn’t move his hips yet, taking a moment to apparently just savor the feeling of Richie inside him, tilting his head back like he’s rooted on Richie’s cock. Richie pictures him closing his eyes, how he looks when he’s blissed out. 

And then Eddie’s starting to roll his hips, little movements at first, slow, fucking himself on Richie’s cock and just letting himself feel it. Richie moves his hands to frame Eddie’s hips, not directing him or holding him tightly but mostly just because Eddie said once how much he likes seeing Richie’s big hands on his hips, and, well, Richie likes it too. 

“Eds. Want me to jerk you off?” he asks, already starting to sound breathless, fingers of his right hand twitching in anticipation. 

Eddie shakes his head. “Not yet, not yet. I just want to....” He trails off, like he’s almost beyond speech, so focused is he on Richie’s dick inside him, his movements deliberate like he’s getting everything he can, and then like he can’t help himself, he gradually starts to go faster, and then he keeps going. There are times when Eddie will go hard and then stop, get himself and Richie close and then back off until Richie feels like he’s going to lose his mind, but it seems Eddie’s not interested in that today, and there’s something about Eddie getting right to the point that Richie has always loved. 

He’s working himself on Richie’s dick, and Richie’s sure Eddie’s about to come and then let him come when suddenly Eddie stops moving, and pulls off. Before Richie can fully register that Eddie’s no longer around his dick, Eddie’s getting on the floor. “Rich,” he says, brow raised when Richie doesn’t quite seem to be understanding what’s happening. “C’mere.”

Eddie’s on his back now, thighs spread. Clumsy, Richie gets on the floor with him, led by his confused erection. “I need you to really nail me,” Eddie tells him. “Hold my hands above my head.”

Eddie’s legs wrap snugly around his waist as he takes Richie in again, and he watches Eddie’s eyes get wide and dark once he’s fully in. Richie leans on one hand and uses the other to hold both of Eddie’s hands to the floor. 

“C’mon, Rich, fuck me,” Eddie says, arching up under him. Richie thinks that maybe cartoon hearts are appearing above his head. And then, by God, Richie Tozier does his level best to really fucking nail Eddie Kaspbrak on the floor of their apartment, sure he’s giving Eddie’s back as well as his knees rug burns, watching Eddie’s jaw go slack, his face get pinker as beads of sweat appear at his temples, hearing him pant and groan as he fucks back up at Richie as best as he can manage, considering Richie weighs a good bit more than he does and Richie knows how much Eddie loves being pinned down. 

“Holy fuck, you feel so good,” Eddie slurs, tightening his legs around Richie. “Fucking… couldn’t stop thinking about this all day, every meeting I was in I just wanted to come home and— Fuck, Rich, so good for me, harder, c’mon—” 

And Richie pounds him for all he’s worth, feeling it when Eddie just lets himself take it, the way he just locks his legs around Richie’s hips and lets the tension drain from his arms where Richie’s still pinning his hands to the floor, just letting himself be _fucked_. 

With his hands occupied, Richie can’t wrap a hand around Eddie’s dick, and with his hands pinned down obviously Eddie can’t either. Richie half-expects Eddie to tell him to let him go, but he hasn’t yet. 

"Rich. Talk to me," Eddie demands, and Richie realizes how tongue-tied he’s been. "Tell me how it feels. I want to hear you.”

“Feels so fucking good, Eddie,” Richie tells him. “You take me so good, you’re so fucking hot, you make me feel crazy— Fuck, Eddie—” 

“Yeah? Fuck, all I could think about all day was getting back here and getting on your dick. Holy shit, I almost went to the men’s room to jerk off. Thought about fingering myself too. Then I thought,” he pauses to readjust his legs around Richie’s hips, “why not just fucking get out of there and come home?”

It occurs to Richie that Eddie did in fact come home earlier than usual. “Yeah?” he says. “You needed it so bad you left work early?” There’s a teasing tone, but if he were standing up, his knees would be weak. Eddie needed his dick—had needed _him_ —so much he left work early for it.

“Those fuckers can deal,” Eddie says, sounding breathless. “Harder, Rich, fuck, come on.” Richie lowers his weight a little more onto him and just _slams_ him, giving him everything he’s got even when he was starting to think he didn’t have much left, sure that any minute now Eddie’s going to demand that Richie free his hands so he can jerk off and come, and then he’ll let Richie come—

Eddie gasps out, “Fuck, Rich, I’m coming,” and he looks down to see Eddie’s hard cock spurting over his stomach as Eddie lets out a gutteral groan, and Richie moans because Eddie getting off just from being on his dick is the hottest thing he’s seen... so far this month. 

Eddie’s shuddering hard, making sounds that seem to come from deep within his chest, laced with relief and astonishment, and then he’s muttering, breathless, “C’mon, Rich, lemme feel you,” and Richie’s coming, feeling like he’s being completely wrung out, utterly drained, and never better.

“Hey. On your back,” Eddie’s saying, sounding breathless and amused, and Richie lets Eddie’s hands go and pulls out and sits back and turns over, and Eddie layers himself over him and kisses his neck and his face. “Mmm,” Eddie hums, sounding deeply content. Richie puts an arm over him, a hand on his back; Eddie runs a hand through his hair. “Love you,” Eddie tells him. “God, that was exactly what I needed,” he sighs. He sounds happy, and being able to give Eddie exactly what he wanted and needed makes Richie feel warm and glowing. It’s corny, maybe, but it’s all he’s ever wanted, really.

“Me too,” Richie says, finding his voice again. This, so far, has been the only thing that’s gotten him close to shutting up.

“Mm. I’m glad, sweetheart,” Eddie says, shifting to drop a brief but firm kiss to Richie’s slack mouth. 

Their breathing slows, the sweat gradually cooling, and Richie knows they’ll have to get up and clean up soon, get dressed and decide what to have for dinner, but for now he holds these precious minutes close to his heart, feeling Eddie’s exhalations against his neck, the scar on his back under his fingertips, his come drying on their stomachs. His warm aliveness, his _Eddie_ -ness. 

He’s not sure what he did to deserve all this, still stunned by what he’s allowed to have, but… as long as he can have it, he’ll do his best to earn it.


End file.
